


Don't Take Off Without Me

by Swlfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is mostly unconcious, Dean deals with his shit, M/M, alternate beginning for 11x23, angst with happy ending, i dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7411238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swlfangirl/pseuds/Swlfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone sent me a tumblr prompt and I folded like a house of cards ( eventually) so you have some canon-esque angst and a short, but happy ending! Hope you like it! </p><p>Alternate beginning for "Alpha and Omega"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Take Off Without Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Ana for all the cheerleading/beta reading. Any remaining mistakes are totally mine!

“C’mon, stay with me...stay with me, Cas.” Dean’s voice broke over the short, three letter nickname feeling as if he could shatter right along with it. Dean turned to Chuck-God, _whatever the hell he is,_ with a pleading look. But it was useless, any kind of power it would have taken for the guy to heal Cas or bring him back, was lost when Amara took on a supernatural nuke and _still_ nearly finished him off.

 

“Sammy, c’mon!” Dean shouted, barely waiting a second before tugging Castiel’s body into his arms and heaving him up off the ground. Sam was there in an instant, wrapping one of Cas’ arms around his broad shoulders and halving the load on Dean as they started to take Cas out to the Impala only to find themselves transported inside the bunker.

 

Most of the furniture in the main rooms were covered in old leather but after falling asleep on them one too many times, Dean had brought back a plush fabric covered couch. Peeling his face from the sticky surface had hurt like a bitch and he liked his afternoon naps too much to give them up completely.

 

They laid Cas down on the soft, warm cushions as Dean silently begged for some sign of life. After _everything_ , all the work he’d put into breaking down his own stupid barriers he just couldn’t lose Cas, not again. He’d had the guy ripped away from him so many times that Dean could feel the scars marking his heart, could feel the blood pumping out through the edges of each wound. There had even been times that Dean used that pain, used the memory that he wasn’t alone to survive a particularly hellish day, but now it held nothing for him, not with Cas laying lifeless in his arms. _Fuck._

 

 _“Please, you can’t die now,”_ Dean muttered, his own breathing getting more labored by the second. He could feel every pair of eyes in the room settle on his shoulders but Dean didn’t care. He had to try, he needed Castiel back...he needed Cas.

 

“Crowley...can you still make a deal?”

 

An audible gasp filled the room, quickly followed by a hailstorm of disagreements, but when Dean turned around to face them all, it stopped. There must have been something written in his expression that shut them up, he didn’t know if it was anger, fear, or pity and didn’t give a flying fuck as long as it kept everyone quiet.

 

“Dean, I _could_ make a deal, but even _I’m_ not strong enough to do what you’re asking at the moment…” Crowley answered, an almost apologetic look on his face.

 

It made Dean’s blood boil. “You’re not even gonna fucking try? I’m offering up my soul here and what? All the sudden you can’t get it up now?”

 

Dean was expecting some sort of sarcastic innuendo from Crowley, something about how he’d spent his load on Amara, instead there was only a click of his teeth and the same downcast expression. It was so full of pity he could choke on it.

 

There was no way he was going to lose Cas, he just… he needed to rest, that’s all. Playing skinsuit for the devil had to have taken it’s toll on the guy.   _Lucifer_ had ridden his best friend for months, had been inside Cas in a way that both terrified and enraged Dean. The worst part of it was that, at first, Dean hadn’t even fucking noticed. Sure, he’d figured out that Cas was acting a bit weird, but he didn’t push, not even after several moments between them that had made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

 

Cas wasn’t Cas and no matter how badly Dean had wanted to save him at the time, he couldn’t, not with the devil riding shotgun. And now that Lucifer was gone…Dean couldn’t help but choke out a sob as the weight of what Cas meant to him started to bear down on his shoulders.

 

Lost in his own thoughts, he replayed the countless times the ang- _his angel_ had saved him, moments where he’d been snatched back from the brink of death. Dean even played out the memory of Cas’ fist landing several blows in the dark alley when his plan to give up and turn himself over to Michael had come to light. He’d never claimed to be the picture of mental health and what it says about him, Dean doesn’t want to know, but even in that alley, surrounded by the scent of stale garbage and the frigid night air, Dean knew. He knew that Castiel cared about him, believed in him, _loved him_.

 

**_I gave everything for you. And this is what you give to me?_ **

 

The words played over in his mind, mocking him with their intensity. Sure, Castiel had spewed the question as if it were hateful and venomous but the meaning behind it was still clear to Dean.  

As far as he was concerned it was a love confession. All these years and Cas had never swayed, had always made sure that Dean knew he was his ultimate priority. The stupid bastard had sacrificed himself over and over again, given up an unimaginable amount of power as leader of a legion of angels, for Dean. All the while Castiel had believed that Dean would never return his feelings, didn’t care for him in the same way, wouldn’t ever...but he was wrong and now Dean couldn’t even tell him.

 

“He just needs some rest, he’ll be fine. He always comes back, right?” Dean said, swiping his hand down his face to wipe away the damp tracks. He tugged the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it neatly around Cas. He tucked the warm cover under Castiel’s stubbled chin and gave him a small smile, “Right, Cas? You always come back to me.”

 

* * *

 

When Lucifer had been expelled by Amara, Castiel was disappointed but a little relieved as well. He looked forward to having control over his own body again, or the one he considered his at least. Castiel began to spread himself out, filling up the empty void his brother had left behind when he noticed something was wrong. He was bound inside the small space he’d been occupying, and that had somehow become his prison. Castiel raged against the walls, tried to break them down, to get back to Dean, but they weren’t giving way to the pressure of his fists and he was so tired, so _very_ exhausted. Castiel fell to the floor of the stale white room where his brother had kept him, suddenly feeling a pang of undeniable empathy for Sam Winchester.

 

Thinking of Sam always brought with it thoughts of his brother. Though, if he were to be truly honest with himself there was very little that could force his attention away from Dean. Almost immediately, Castiel was given images, flashes of Dean’s face, the bunker floor and then back. He was still locked within the space but thinking of Dean somehow broke the barrier enough to allow him to see what was happening. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t respond, but he could see Dean and that was a comfort Cas hadn’t expected. He curled himself tightly into the corner and let that particular vision lull him to sleep.

 

When Castiel woke up, he was sore and everything hurt in a way that he wasn’t used to, not even as a human. The smallest task. opening his eyes for example, felt like a battle, but he finally fought hard enough to get them open. Looking back at him was a familiar green that seemed even more indescribable in the low lighting. He tried to open his mouth, wanted to use some ridiculous quip that would make the worried concern on Dean’s face morph into something more fond, but he couldn’t. No matter how hard he fought his lips just wouldn’t move, his throat wasn’t even cooperating, but he could see Dean and for the first time since regaining control of his body, Castiel believed that Dean could finally see him too.

 

* * *

 

“SAMMY!” Dean yelled, after hours of nothing, Dean had prayed. Not to Chuck, no, that guy had enough of his own problems. No, he prayed to Cas, prayed for anything even just the smallest sign and he’d be happy.

 

 _Then it happened,_ Cas opened his eyes and looked at Dean, really looked at him. It only lasted for a second but it was enough, _it had to be_.

 

“What? What’s going on?” Sam asked, his hair half rumpled and stuck to his face.

 

“Cas opened his eyes, he’s still in there!” Dean shouted, his smile wide and bright.

 

Sam looked down at Cas’ motionless body and back up to Dean, his thoughts painfully obvious in his expression. There was concern and disbelief, he’d expected that much, but Dean didn’t care because he also saw the flicker of hope when Sam had realized what he’d said. That was all Dean needed, to know that he wasn’t alone in this and no matter how crazy Sam thought he might be, at least they were holding out together, waiting for Cas to come back.

 

“Dean..” Sam started, but Dean instantly cut him off.

 

“Don’t Sam, just don’t.” Dean’s voice dropped into a lower register that was reserved for the rare few moments he considered to be serious. There wasn’t even a hint of playfulness left in him, only the sharp dagger of too many disappointments hanging over his head.

 

Instead of speaking again, Sam just reached out and squeezed his shoulder. It was meant to be comforting and Dean tried to remember that, but it just made him feel like an idiot. Sam’s skepticism was drawing out his own uncertainty. Maybe he’d just wanted it so badly that he’d imagined it, or nodded off for a second and dreamed up those iridescent blue eyes that seemed to stare deeper than they had the right to. He might have just been remembering, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done that before. Cas always had this way of evoking the most vivid memories in Dean, so real he felt like he could reach out and touch them. Sometimes they were a comfort, others just torturous reminders of what he didn’t have.

 

It had been hours since Amara had snapped her fingers and pulled the devil out of Cas, and still there wasn’t any sign beyond what Dean hoped wasn’t just his imagination. As terrible as it was, Dean almost wished Chuck wasn’t around. He immediately felt guilty for the thought when he saw the look of surprise on the guy’s face, but let it go when Chuck nodded in understanding.

 

Dean could lie to himself, could trick his mind into thinking the next Naomi, Gadreel, or God himself would bring Cas back from wherever he was and sit him down in Dean’s path; if not for the knowledge that the only people invested in seeing that happen were there with him and not a single one was able to help.

 

_“C’mon, Dean think… think.. There’s gotta be something,”_

 

* * *

 

Castiel felt something itching under his skin, forcing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up in response. He’d been so tired, so lost, time itself had seemed to slip away from him entirely. Something was wrong, but what? What could he possibly be missing?

 

Then suddenly a soft hum started in his chest, flowing outward. It buried itself under his skin, moving stealthily throughout his body, the vibration was nearly imperceptible until the crushing wave of heat followed behind it. Castiel’s sternum grew hot with raw power and energy, surging through him like a livewire.

 

_Dean._

 

Dean was praying, longing desperately for...for _him_ , for Castiel. The familiar throb of hope and misery ignited in his core filling him with a renewed strength, a power he could use to rage against the walls and desolation Lucifer had left in his wake. For Dean, he could fight. For Dean, he could do the impossible.

 

* * *

 

Dean’s feet fell from the coffee table, his boots smacking hard against the concrete floor. The abrupt jolt forcing him to blink his eyes open. He’d not meant to fall asleep, but he must have dozed off for a bit. His eyes were swollen and sore from sleep deprivation and something else he didn’t want to name. Sitting up, Dean cradled his head in his hands and tried to breathe. The longer this went on the more pathetic he looked, but Dean just couldn’t give up. Amara could come back and wipe them all out in a second, but nothing seemed more important than pulling Cas back and bringing him home.

 

He reached for the bottle of amber liquid beside him, but hesitated. Dean’s fingers were paused mid air and all he could do was imagine the familiar blue gaze boring into him. _No,_ despite the overwhelming urge to numb his pain, he knew it was the last thing he needed at the moment. With even the smallest chance that he’d be able to see it again, Dean couldn’t let his mind be clouded.

 

Dropping his hand back down to his thigh, Dean let out a long breath and rubbed at the back of his neck before stretching out completely. His mouth curved into a yawn, but was swiftly disregarded as Dean stood to make his way toward the kitchen. He could almost taste the rich delicious coffee sliding down his throat already.

 

Three steps into his journey, Dean stopped. A pained groan echoed behind him, forcing him to spin around and rush toward the couch. Castiel was half sitting up and Dean hurried to push him back down. “Hey, hey just lay back and take it easy, man.”

 

“D-Deannn,” Cas grunted, his voice so warbled that the resonant tone was the only thing Dean could recognize.

 

“Cas, I’m here, I’m here,” Dean pleaded. There was an almost perceptible glaze over Castiel’s bright blues. Dean blinked harder in hopes that when he opened his eyes again, he wouldn’t see the pale, pathetic version of the symbol that had always defined Cas for him. Whenever anyone other than his angel was looking back at him, it was the first thing Dean noticed. Even when it was Jimmy Novak alone in his own body, it had still felt _wrong_.

 

“Sso’hott,” Castiel grunted, without thinking, Dean’s hand reached for the top of his forehead to check his temperature as if he were human. His hand warmed, but not to a dangerous level for a human so Dean had to assume that it was something else, something supernatural that had Cas sweat slicked and complaining.

 

“What do you need? Cas? Tell me what to do!” Dean demanded. The memory of every nervous coil in his stomach and each terrified thought that had been crushing him for the last twelve hours nearly snapping what little composure he had left. He couldn’t take it anymore, Cas was alive, he was there, but still felt like a small gust of wind could carry him away again.

 

“C’mon, Cas..I need you, you can’t leave me, not now. Do you hear me… you get your angelic ass back out here or I’ll drag you out.” Dean could blame it on not getting enough sleep, the far too familiar pain of losing someone he loved, or a multitude of other things, but he didn’t. Tears dotted his cheeks and the raw ache in his chest roared to life once more, forcing him to curl into Cas and just let go, let go of everything that had held him back all these years. “Cas I-, you have to come back...I need to tell you I lo-,” he paused, taking a deep breath. He hadn’t wanted to do it like this, Dean thought maybe he could just take Cas out one night for a burger and a movie, or something. He imagined at some point Castiel would do that thing, the one where he’d stare at Dean as if he were something special. They’d drift closer on instinct, after all they’d done it a million times before. Then at that last moment, he envisioned himself leaning in and closing the small distance between them.

 

Whatever came next he didn’t know, sometimes he thought about what it would be like to just talk everything out, to explain how long he’d been trying to tear down the barriers between them; others he just wanted to stand there, staring into those gorgeous blue eyes, imagining the flicker of surprise or awed wonder that might be looking back at him.

 

Now though, there was only pain. This could be it for Cas and if it was, Dean refused to let him go without a fight, without him knowing that he was so much more than just his best friend. He swiped at his eyes, keeping them closed up tight when he was finished, unable to bring himself to look at Cas’ eyes that _weren’t quite right_ as he spoke what was in his heart.

 

“I love you, Cas. You’ve been family to me for years but not like a brother, with Sammy, sure. But I’ve always seen what we have as something different. I-fuck, I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean paused, opening his eyes after wiping away another patch of tear soaked skin. Brilliant blues were in front of him, not the sorry excuse he’d seen before, but the ethereal kind of blue that signified _Castiel._

 

Taking a deep breath, Dean continued...this time eyes opened, staring down at the man he loved. “I’m so fucking sorry that I let all this shit cloud up my head, that I invited people, even issues into my life just to keep us apart, to keep me from saying this sooner. I love you, Cas.”

 

“Dean?” Castiel asked, seeming almost confused or maybe just struck with disbelief. Dean could understand, but he didn’t want it to last. So instead of answering one of the million questions Cas was likely to have, Dean pinched gently at the skin of his wrist and let the small grin spread wider on his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

 

Castiel made one quick nod of his head, saying yes immediately. Dean’s thumb traced over the stubbled arch of Cas’ chin, drawing out the moment just a little longer. He wanted to savor it, wanted to etch the details into his mind to get him through whatever might come next. Dean tugged at the plump bottom lip of Castiel’s mouth, easily coaxing it open as he inched closer.

 

“I’m going to kiss you now, you sure that’s still okay?” Dean teased, allowing his breath to skirt over the rough surface of Castiel’s scruffy jaw. His teeth playfully snapping just centimeters from the angel’s skin.

 

“Dean!” Castiel growled, not hesitating to pull him in and crash their mouths together.

 

Dean swallowed a chuckle and shifted his lips to nuzzle his nose against Castiel’s. Even with all the angel’s eagerness, Dean managed to stay far enough away to only tease at the surface of Cas’ mouth. He pressed closer, allowing himself to be pulled further into the space between them.

 

Dean parted Cas’ lips further by tracing the pad of his thumb along the full line of his mouth. The angel opened for him beautifully and Dean inched closer to swirl his tongue against Castiel’s. They swayed together in a dance that made his thighs start to quiver and his heart pick up to double its normal pace. Despite all his experience, nothing had prepared Dean for what it would feel like to kiss Cas. It wasn’t just a warm mouth and a silky tongue, it was everything - it was endless jolts of excitement and something warmer, more affectionate; It was soft pecks and harsh bites; it was a contradiction of everything he’d ever expected, but somehow more than he could have hoped for.

 

Cas was taking him on a journey and for the first time in his life, Dean wasn’t afraid of flying.

  



End file.
